Well, fancy thata dress! Would you believe Im the one who tossed it in the bin?
Standing by the kitchen table, flipping open the rubbish bin, Emily suddenly froze. «Whats this dress doing here? Youre not seriously telling me *I* put it there?»
It was a question Emily asked herself almost daily, with no satisfactory answer: what on earth did she ever see in Simon?
By all accounts, he was painfully averageso much so that shed never introduced him to her friends, leaving them convinced she was happily single. The only person who knew she lived with a man was her sister, sworn to secrecy.
Simon hadnt exactly set the world alight career-wisehe worked as a mechanic at a factory. Sometimes, slumped in front of the telly, Emily caught herself thinking it was high time to call it quits. But just as she steeled herself, Simon would show up with flowers or some trinket, and shed push the breakup to tomorrow.
Before Emily, Simon had been marriedbriefly. The marriage lasted two months, but it was long enough for a pregnancy and a daughter. By the time Emily met him, his daughter, Charlotte, was twelve. Emily had never met her. Nor did she want to.
Then came her birthday plansa glamorous night out with the girls.
«Emily,» Simon began hesitantly, «my ex has a business trip. Shes asked if I could take Charlotte for a bit»
«How long is a bit?» Emilys nose wrinkled. The last thing she wanted for her birthday was a child underfoot.
«A month.»
«A *month*? Why so long?» She frowned. «I hope her mother realises well have to feed her?»
«No money sent, if thats what youre asking,» Simon admitted, shrugging helplessly.
«So you pay child support, and now we cover everything while her mother swans off? Thats rich.»
«Come on, you know what I earn,» Simon said with a weak smile.
«How is this even going to work?» Emilys irritation flared. «School runs, looking after her. Why are you even agreeing to this?»
«Because Im her father?» Simon looked genuinely baffled. «Should I just turn her away?»
«You shouldve remembered you dont live alone, for starters. Two, this is *my* flatyou couldve asked. Three, its my *birthday*, and I dont want it ruined!»
«I dont think my daughters a problem,» Simon muttered, guilt creeping in.
«Everythings going to go wrong, I just know it,» Emily huffed, crossing her arms.
Simon tried to reassure her, but the next day, a round-faced girl with garish makeup (looking at least sixteen) stood at their door. She shot Emily a glare before addressing Simon.
«Where am I sleeping?»
«The kitchen,» Simon said with a strained smile.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and fled to the bathroom in tears.
«What was *that*?» Emily hissed. «Rude and spoiled. Thank goodness Im celebrating at a café. And youre not coming.»
«What? I thought youd finally introduce me to your friends. Weve lived together six months»
«Youre babysitting,» Emily said, secretly relievedher friends boyfriends were gym-toned and well-dressed.
Simon said nothing else, just nodded stiffly.
The next morning, Emily was a whirlwind of pre-birthday prep. She ironed her dress, hung it up, and waited for evening. Simon hadnt spoken to hernot even a «happy birthday.» She brushed it off, refusing to let it spoil her mood.
After work, she dashed home to changeonly to find her dress gone.
«Wheres my dress?!» Emily stormed into the kitchen, where Charlotte lounged on the camp bed. Ignoring her, the girl fiddled with her phone.
«Are you deaf?» Emily snatched the phone.
«Give it back!» Charlotte shrieked as Simon rushed in.
«Whats going on? Give her the phone!»
«Wheres my dress?» Emily ground out.
«I didnt take anything!» Charlotte sneered. «She just hates me!»
«Give. It. Back,» Simon ordered.
«Oh, *shell* confess!» Emily hurled the phone to the floor. The screen shattered. Charlotte wailed. Emily marched off, triumphant.
She scrambled for a backup outfit, changed, and fled to the café. There, she decidedshed break up with Simon.
She stumbled home at dawn. Simon sat up in bed.
«Do you know what time it is?»
«Playing the strict husband now? Too late. Were done. Youre both out by morning.»
«So this is *my* fault?» Simon laughed bitterly.
«You smashed Charlottes phone»
«She stole my dress!» Emily screeched.
«She didnt take anything!» Simon snapped. «Im sure of it!»
Emily waved him off, refusing to listen.
To calm down, she grabbed an unfinished wine bottle from the cupboard. One sipand she spat it out.
«Shampoo?! Youll say I poured this too?» She laughed, then froze as she opened the bin. «Well, lookthe dress! Still saying I threw it in here?»
«You were looking for an excuse to leave! I heard you talking to your sisterI *know* youve wanted out for ages!» Simon shouted.
Emilys brow arched. Oh, she remembered alright.
«I planted a listening device. Heard every word!» Simon said, weirdly proud.
«Surprise! I *wondered* how you always knew!» Emily was stunned. «Now get out.»
This time, Simon didnt try to stop her. He knew it was over.
